


Progeny

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Absent Parents, Angst, Children, Domestic, Fatherhood, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place long after the war is over, cozy day out at the park sees Spy and Scout spending time people watching and enjoying one another’s company.  At least, until Spy brings up a dream he’d one thought dead, now suddenly not so implausible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progeny

“Okay, I will admit. Saurkraut was a good idea for the hot dogs,” Spy mused with a smile, crumpling up a napkin in his hand and looking to Scout beside him, who was licking his fingers clean.

“Told ya,” the younger man stated, flashing his lover a grin and scooting a little closer on the park bench they shared.

The sun beamed merrily, warming grass and cement in comfortable measure as it shone down on the park, reflecting brightly off of the vibrant greens of each blade of grass, each young leaf on the trees welcoming the joyous return of spring in rapturous adulation. Dogs trotted by, tugging their owners after them on leashes. Pretty girls roller-skated down the path in tight work-out clothes. A ways away, a father played catch with his two young sons in the grass, laughing and cheering them on. Scout and Spy sat on a bench beside the path, having finished their lunch and enjoying the warm, early-spring day, along with each other's company.

Running a hand through his hair, in need of trimming and messy, Scout watched the playing family across the lawn, a small, sad smile playing at his lips. He relaxed back against Spy's arm, thrown over the bench behind him. It was barely enough contact, but all they could hazard in public without notice. Spy would have no more, else they might draw attention, though Scout would happily be in his lap nuzzling at the older man's stubbly jaw if he had his way.

Turning to his partner, Scout found Spy to be watching the same sight with a wistful look on his face, seemingly lost somewhere else in spite of being captured by the image before him. Fingers danced along the collar of his polo shirt, rousing him from his reverie. “Oui?”

“Nothin'. You're just cute,” Scout chirped with a grin, enjoying the slight, flattered chuckle he received instead of the gentle peck Spy clearly wanted to gift him. The rogue's fingers tickled lightly at the back of Scout's neck, fiddling with the soft hair where his neck joined his skull, normally close-cut but currently hazarding dangerously close to shaggy. The younger man leaned into the touch, as brief as it was, thankful for some fleeting displays of affection, what few he could gain while they were out.

Silence settled in, children's gleeful screams filling the air where the ex-mercenaries no longer took up space with their voices. The father in the field laughed as his sons, two boys no older than eight or nine, bowled him over after he tried to run with the ball they'd been tossing around. He rolled onto his back, play-fighting his children as they climbed on top of him and tugged at his hair and nose and cried out in glee and triumph.

Spy and Scout shared a sigh, then looked to each other, a nervous half-laugh escaping each man.

“Those kids sure are lucky,” Scout mused, turning his eyes back to the heart-warming scene. “Dunno how good they got it. Hope they never have to find out, yanno?”

“Mmm,” Spy agreed, casting a glance to his lover. He knew well how envious Scout must be. “Though I'm sure their papa knows how fortunate he is, to have the love of his children, and be able to spend time with them.”

Regarding his hook-nosed husband, Scout let his hand fall to the older man's knee for just a moment, a light squeeze, before it left again. He smiled up to Spy. “Lookit you. Big ol' softy,” he chuckled. “You are real good with kids, though. Long as I known you.”

“Yes, well,” Spy tapped a cigarette out of his case, holding it between his fingers as he tucked the metal box back into his pocket, “there was a time, long ago, when I entertained thoughts-- no, plans. Plans, of fatherhood.”  
“Seriously, you?”

“Oui. I dreamed of finding someone with long legs and a charming smile and settling down together. We would buy a home, build a life, and raise two, perhaps three children. Sons, daughters, it does not matter to me.” Spy held his cigarette between his lips to light it, then took it away between two fingers. “But, then, as such things go, war came to France, and with it, I came to the cross-trade. There is no place for family in espionage.”

“An' then you went into mercenary work after the war,” Scout finished the story, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, frowning.

“True. And in mercenary work, I found you. And having left mercenary work, here we are, non? I've found my someone with long legs and a charming smile.”

Scout tossed him a sample of said charming smile, geniuine and flattered. He scratched through his hair, hoping to distract himself from blushing.

This only brought new light to Spy's gaze. “We have left life on the run. We have settled down, bought a home, built a life together...”

Scout stiffened, realization dawning on him. He sat up straight, turning to look Spy in the eye. “Woah, woah, are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?”

“It _would_ be a relatively simple matter to find a surrogate, with the sort of funds we have available. And we do have a nice, large yard, with ample flat space for a swing set or something,” the rogue mused with a grin.

“Woah, Spy. You're not serious. Kids? Us? Like, you an' me? Raisin' kids?”

“Is that such a bad thing, mon faon?”

Scout took a moment to read Spy's face. Years together had taught him more of the older man's tells than he realized, and looking into that small smile, those big, blue eyes, moist and aglow and full of hope, he felt his guts twist into knots knowing Spy wasn't just fucking with him. He was serious. “No, no, no. No way! Are you freakin' kiddin' me?”

Spy reeled back, taken aback by his lover's outburst, by his flippant tone. “I--”

“What the hell would ever make you think I'd ever want that? I grew up with seven brothers! I was the runt, but shit, I got cousins, I got second cousins, I got cousins removed! Catholic family, man! My brothers have kids, my cousins have kids, aunts an' uncles got kids! I was around kids freakin' constantly all the time! I was surrounded by family non-stop back home! I became a merc to get away from all that shit, man!”

“You return home so often,” Spy ventured, his voice quiet, cowed by Scout's rising tone.

“Don't mean I don't love my family. My ma's there! But it don't mean I wanna be around that all the time!”

“You cannot tell me there aren't rewarding parts to family.” Spy puffed up a bit, regaining his bearings.

“Not enough to be worth ruinin' the good thing we got goin'. Look, Babe, I ain't really dad material, alright? Not like I ever had one to show me how.”

“You know what not to do, Petit. You know how important a father can be to his child, how to be there, how to show love and kindness and respect, because you know better.”

“I just,” Scout sighed. “I like what we got now. I love it. You, me, our home, our life together, yanno? Why change it? Why risk fucking it all up?”

“By bringing more love and joy into our home?”

“Then it's not just you an' me then, is it? We gotta give 'em attention, time, love, all that kind 'a shit. An' that's attention, time, an' love taken away from each other.”

“Love is not a finite resource.”

“But it could come between us!”

“It sounds to me like it is coming between us already,” Spy muttered, casting his gaze to the ground.

Scout didn't respond, unsure how. His blood boiled, his knuckles white as his fists clenched tight. How dare Spy spring something like this on him? How dare he think of changing the perfect life they'd managed, against all probability, to build for themselves? He didn't want to go back to wailing babies and grouchy teenagers and homework help and breaking up fights and never any end to the yelling. So much yelling. Always yelling.

Spy licked the inside of his lip. Maybe that had been too harsh. After all, this was sudden. But did Scout have to shoot him down immediately? Angrily? He simply mentioned a dream he'd long thought dead, a hope, a chance.

In all of the years Spy had known Scout, he'd never heard of his lover being afraid of change. In fact, he was often its catalyst. He certainly had been in the formation of their friendship, as well as the advent of their relationship. Scout had been the one to say something, to open his mouth, to communicate first. Now that Spy had been the one to communicate, the lines were closing down.

“You're everything to me,” Scout whispered, not looking back up to his partner. “If I lost you, I dunno what I'd do. An' I seen what kids can do to love. To a marriage. To a happy home an' shit. I seen it first hand with my folks, an' plenty 'a friends' folks too. It ain't pretty. It's downright ugly, man. I don't want even a chance 'a that happenin' to us. We're perfect. I can't chance losin' that.”

“And I have seen many lives made better by expanding a family,” Spy replied, throwing his arm around Scout's shoulders and tugging him closer. Far closer than their normal careful public facades allowed. Sides pressed together, and Spy tucked the smaller man close against himself.

“They're gross, though,” Scout protested. “Make messes. They're just little puke, shit, and piss machines.”

“We lived with Sniper and Demoman for all of those years, mon lapin. I think we can handle a little bit more 'puke' and 'piss', non?”

That got Scout chuckling, leaning into Spy, resting his head on the taller man's chest. He sighed heavily.

Tilting Scout up to look at him, Spy smiled gently, letting his hand sift through his lover's hair. “I am not going to force you into something you do not want, or do not think you are ready for. If you don't want this, I respect that.”

“Say that again in a couple years when the Dad Alarm is goin' off an' you're figuring you gotta choose between havin' kids or havin' me. An' then you'll leave,” came the choked mutter from Scout, pressing his head heavily against Spy's chest.

Spy forced Scout to look back up at him, leveling his gaze hard into the younger man's eyes. “There is nothing in this world that could ever make me stop loving you, Scout. Nothing that could take me from your side. If we are not to be fathers, then that is our lot. I will enjoy being able to make love to you in any room of our home without worry for discovery by our unfortunate offspring.” He pressed a kiss to Scout's forehead. “All I ask is that you think on it. Yes or no, please, at least think.”

“Me thinkin' ain't a guarantee 'a shit.”

“But it is a gesture. One that matters more than the answer.”

Wrapping his arms tightly around Spy, Scout kissed his lips, his brow furrowed as his eyes fluttered closed. “Then I will. An' how about this? If the answer's still no, maybe we can go visit my family more often? Spoil the shit outta my nieces and nephews?”

“Fill them with sugar then send them home?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“That might be a good compromise,” Spy chuckled.

Scout kissed the tip of Spy's nose, so glad for his laughter, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spy echoed with a smile. “Now let us go before someone has us arrested for kissing here,” he laughed, pecking Scout on the nose.

“Pssht I'd love to see 'em try to arrest me.”

“I've seen you arrested before. The jumpsuit was strangely flattering on you.”

“You're strangely flattering on me.”

“That is true too.”


End file.
